"Mad I call it, for to define true madness, what is't to be nothing else but mad?"

"Poor and content is rich, and rich enough."

"We cannot conceive of matter being formed of nothing, since things require a seed to start from... Therefore there is not anything which returns to nothing, but all things return dissolved into their elements."

"I am wealthy in my friends."

"But if it be a sin to covet honour,I am the most offending soul alive."

"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain."

"How art thou out of breath when thou hast breathTo say to me that thou art out of breath?"

"Talkers are no good doers."

"This was the most unkindest cut of all For when the noble Caesar saw him stab Ingratitude more strong than traitor's arm Quite vanquish'd him then burst his mighty heart."

"I wasted time and now doth time waste me."

"CASSIO: Dost thou hear, my honest friend?CLOWN: No, I hear not your honest friend, I hear you.CASSIO: Prithee, keep up thy quillets."

"Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!"

"No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. But I know none, and therefore am no beast."

"Fit to govern? No, not fit to live."

"What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,That he should weep for her?"

"Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie."

"Friar Laurence:O, mickle is the powerful grace that liesIn herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: For nought to vile that on the earth doth live, But to the earth some special good doth give; nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use, Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, And vice sometime's by action dignified."

"He that commends me to mine own contentCommends me to the thing I cannot get.I to the world am like a drop of waterThat in the ocean seeks another drop,Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself:So I, to find a mother and a brother,In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself."

"What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine."

"Those that much covet are with gain so fond,For what they have not, that which they possessThey scatter and unloose it from their bond,And so, by hoping more, they have but less;Or, gaining more, the profit of excessIs but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain,That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain."

"Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him,And all their ministers attend on him."

"I wish you all the joy that you can wish."

"But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed."

"No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled. From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell; Nay, if you read this line, remember not. The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then would make you woe."

"O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else?And shall I couple Hell?"

"I'll follow this good man, and go with you;And, having sworn truth, ever will be true."

"Out of her favour, where I am in love."

"Each new mornNew widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrowsStrike heaven on the face, that it resoundsAs if it felt with Scotland, and yelled outLike syllable of dolor."

"Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord? Hamlet: Words, words, words. Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord? Hamlet: Between who? Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord."

"O, let my books be then the eloquenceAnd dumb presagers of my speaking breast;Who plead for love, and look for recompense,More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit."

"Life is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"Jesters do often prove prophets."

"What you doStill betters what is done. When you speak, sweet.I'ld have you do it ever: when you sing,I'ld have you buy and sell so, so give alms,Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs,To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish youA wave o' the sea, that you might ever doNothing but that; move still, still so,And own no other function: each your doing,So singular in each particular,Crowns what you are doing in the present deed,That all your acts are queens."

"The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation that away Men are but gilded loam or painted clay."

"In a false quarrel there is no true valor."

"By that sin fell the angels."

"I beg for justice, which you, Prince, must give. Romeo killed Tybalt; Romeo must not live."

"Can snore upon the flint when resty sloth Finds the down pillow hard."

"Macbeth: How does your patient, doctor?Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest.Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart.Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself."

"The cunning livery of hell."

"Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"Murder most foul as in the best it is But this most foul strange and unnatural."

"All causes shall give way: I am in bloodStepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more,Returning were as tedious as go o'er."

"They are the books, the arts, the academes,That show, contain and nourish all the world."

"Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;But do not dull thy palm with entertainmentOf each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade."

"Sometime [Queen Mab] driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,Of healths five fathom deep; and then anonDrums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or twoAnd sleeps again."

"Men from children nothing differ."

"To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune but to write and read comes by nature."

"Then of thy beauty do I question make,That thou among the wastes of time must go,Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,And die as fast as they see others grow."

"What do I fear? Myself? There's none else by.Richard loves Richard; that is, I and I."